Double Lucky (91 page)

Billy realized there was no way they could avoid a face-to-face. “Hey,” he managed, caught off guard.

For a moment he thought Venus was about to blank him. But she didn't. She rallied, hung on to Jorge's arm, and threw him an icy “Hello.”

So much for remaining friends, which is what she'd said in a recent interview.
“Billy and I are, and always will be, the closest of friends. I wish him nothing but the best.”

Knowing Venus, what she actually meant to say was “
Fuck that son of a bitch. I hope his career implodes and I never have to see him again.”

“You're lookin' good,” Billy muttered. It was all he could think of to say. One thing about Venus, she was always in spectacular shape. Too much for any one man to handle.

The dude she was clinging onto was young—young enough to not know what he was getting himself into. At thirty, Billy felt like a veteran of the star wars. Maybe he should warn the poor bastard, help him out.

“Hey, Venus,” Kev piped up. “Long time no see.”

Venus gave Kev an imperious wave of her hand—her signature move when dealing with an annoying presence. She and Kev had never gotten along. When Kev was Billy's assistant she'd insisted that Billy fire him. He hadn't done so, which had made her resent Kev even more.

Suddenly the theater next door to the restaurant began hemorrhaging crowds of people. The Gerald M. concert was over, and hundreds of excited fans were on the loose.

Venus's bodyguards closed ranks around their precious star and immediately began moving her off.

Billy decided he'd better get going before he was spotted.

Too late. A gaggle of delirious women descended on him, yelling his name. Soon he was surrounded by screaming fans.

Where was Kev when he needed him?

*   *   *

“I get edgy in crowds,” Ace said as they fought their way out of the theater. “This is a freakin' nightmare.”

“Stay cool,” Max whispered as a fat woman inadvertently shoved her in the back. “It'll soon be over. Then we'll go find an In-N-Out Burger. That'll put a smile on your face.”

“You got that right,” Ace said, grabbing her hand.

“Shouldn't we be heading backstage?” Frankie said, stopping and indicating a side door where select VIPs were being assembled to be escorted back to pay homage to Gerald M.

“Yeah, right,” Cookie answered vaguely. She'd hoped he wouldn't notice, but obviously he knew the routine. Major stars always had their assistants gather the people who merited a pass, then bring them back to the luxurious private bar, where they patiently waited their turn for an audience with the star. Such bullshit.

Frankie changed direction and headed for the side door, while Cookie pulled on Max's arm and hissed, “You gotta come with us.
Puh-leeze!
”

“Oh for crap's sake!” Max complained. “This entire night is turning out to be all about you.”

“Ten minutes,” Cookie pleaded. “Then we'll go wherever you an' Ace want.”

“What
he
wants is for us to be by ourselves,” Max said, wishing she was anywhere but here.

“You can do that anytime.”

“Not really, considering Ace doesn't live anywhere near me.”

“He should move,” Cookie sniffed.

“Maybe he will. But tonight I have to do what
he
wants. He drove all this way just to be with me. That has to count for something.”

“Okay, okay,” Cookie said impatiently. “Ten minutes, that's all I ask.”

“Fine.” Max sighed. “After that, you're totally on your own.”

*   *   *

It didn't thrill Venus running into Billy. She supposed he must be in Vegas for the fights. He was with his horrible friend Kev—a bone of contention in their marriage. She'd always suspected Kev was a bad influence, therefore she'd never trusted him. She was sure he'd always been trying to hook Billy up with random girls on the side.

Well, at least Billy wasn't with that little tramp, his most recent costar, Willow Price—famous for flashing her snatch at every photographer in town.

Her bodyguards hustled her through the casino and into a waiting limo hovering curbside. Jorge trotted behind them and jumped onto the seat next to her.

“Where to, Miss Venus?” the driver inquired.

“Back to The Keys,” she said to the driver, removing Jorge's hand from her thigh. “Stop at the private entrance to Mood.” She turned to Jorge. “Do you dance?”

He nodded.

“Excellent, 'cause I feel like letting loose.”

*   *   *

“You told Cassie about the Bahamas yet?” Bobby asked.

“I'm gonna surprise her,” M.J. replied. “Kinda zip her out to the airport from Max's party. She'll never know what hit her.”

“Girls don't like surprises,” Bobby warned. “They're into preparing and all that crap.”

“Preparing
what?
” M.J. said. “I'll buy her anything she needs when we get there.”

“If you really think that's the way to go.”

“Yeah. She'll love it.”

“Okay, she'll love it,” Bobby said, although he didn't believe it for a moment.

“Cassie wants me to meet up with some superagent who's considering representing her,” M.J. said, signaling for the check. “We're having a drink with him at the Cavendish, then we'll swing by Mood. Okay with you?”

“Sure. I'll hold things down.”

“We've got a lot of VIP reservations tonight,” M.J. said. “Everyone's in town for the fights on Sunday.”

“And you're not staying,” Bobby stated. “What's up with that?”

“Yeah, bad timing,” M.J. said. “But here's the good news—I'm givin' you my tickets.”

“Jeez,” Bobby exclaimed. “True love rules.”

“Ringside, my man,” M.J. boasted. “Primo position. Cannot be beat.”

“Problem is, I don't think I can use 'em,” Bobby said, watching Denver and Cassie as they walked back to the table.

“Why not?” M.J. asked. “Aren't you listening? Ringside, man.”

“I'm not so sure it's something Denver's into.”

“Exactly what am I not into?” Denver asked, sliding into the booth.

“Boxing,” Bobby said. “Not your thing, right?”

“How did you guess?” she said coolly. “Two grown men beating each other's brains out is hardly my idea of a brilliant time.”

“Yeah,” Bobby said. “I had a hunch you'd feel that way.”

“I'm crazy for the fights,” Cassie piped up. “We're goin' Sunday night, right, hon?”

M.J. exchanged a glance with Bobby and nodded. “Course we are. Wouldn't miss it.”

Denver wondered what was happening back in L.A. She missed her apartment, her dog, and her work.

So far Vegas was not doing it for her. She couldn't wait to get home.

 

CHAPTER FORTY

Luscious and Seducta set off in Seducta's 1998 shocking-pink Pontiac, her pride and joy—a wedding present from Mikey after they'd gotten hitched by a Lady Gaga look-alike six months ago after indulging in a drunken orgy with several Scottish footballers. Seducta harbored such fond memories of that special day, she'd even had the date tattooed on her ass.

“How come Mikey bought you an
old
car?” Luscious sneered as she settled in to the passenger seat and attempted to fasten the broken seat belt across her skinny waist.

“Better than that piece of garbage
you
drive,” Seducta sneered back, referring to Luscious's used 2008 Toyota. “My Pontiac is vintage.”

Luscious wasn't quite sure what vintage meant, so she kept quiet.

“Who
is
this john we're seeing?” Seducta inquired, weaving in and out of traffic with a total lack of concern for other drivers on the road. “What's his deal? Girl on girl? 'Cause if it is, I'm warnin' you—don't go stickin' your tongue in my cooze. You gotta fake it. We clear on that?”

“How the fuck I know who he is?” Luscious said irritably. “It's a job. The jerkoff's payin' top dollar. An' might I remind you to get a life—'cause the last place my tongue wants t' go is anywhere near your fat cooze.”

“Fat?” Seducta hissed, tapping the steering wheel with long fake nails—several of them chipped. “If anythin's fat it's your big mouth. Since you had that shit injected in your lips, they remind me of two gnarly worms.”

“You're bein' jealous again,” Luscious said, refusing to get into a war of words. “Randy gets off on my lips.”

“Not what he told
me,
” Seducta replied with a knowing smirk.

“Since when did
you
get to talkin' to
my
boyfriend?” Luscious demanded.

“Like I'm not allowed to speak to my own
brother-in-law,
” Seducta jeered. “You seem to forget we're related. Randy an' me—we're
family.
”

Luscious narrowed her squinty eyes. Seducta was dumb as a sheep, and she wasn't about to take the bait, because that's what Seducta was doing—baiting her into losing her cool. She wished she hadn't thrown this well-paid gig Seducta's way; the fat cow didn't deserve it. She should've picked one of the other girls.

Too late now. The best thing she could do was grit her teeth and put a smile on it.

 

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

“I have a yen to surprise everyone,” Lucky murmured, sliding seductively out of bed. “I know I said we wouldn't emerge until tomorrow, but it's only eleven and I'm sure they'll all end up at Bobby's club. What do you think? Shall we put in an appearance?”

“My wife,” Lennie said, leaning back with a benevolent smile on his face. “Always ready for action.”

“Hmm,” she said, also smiling. “Tonight I've had enough action to last me until your next visit.”

“Jesus,” Lennie burst out laughing. “You're making me sound like some kind of randy sailor on shore leave.”

“Yeah, that's it,” Lucky teased. “My sexy sailor husband—the man with all the right moves.”

“If you say so,” he said, pulling her back to bed. “Although I'm thinking there could be a few moves we haven't explored yet.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

“When's your next visit?” she asked, snuggling up close and idly stroking his chest.

“Stop with the visiting crap,” he scolded. “I'm away on location making a movie. I'll be home permanently in a few weeks.”

“Nothing about you is ever permanent, Lennie.”

“Isn't that exactly the way you like it?”

“How well he knows me,” she drawled.

“Yeah,” he said, scratching his head. “If anyone knows you at all.”

“I had a strange meeting this morning,” she ventured. “Actually, it was verging on creepy.”

“What kind of strange?” Lennie asked.

“I'm not sure, really—it was with some moronic asshole who figured he could waltz right in and buy The Keys. Can you imagine?”

“No shit,” Lennie said, his interest piqued. “Who was he?”

“A man called Armand Jordan. Jeffrey set the meeting up; he was under the impression that Armand's company was interested in investing in future projects.”

“And I'm guessing that wasn't the case.”

“Not at all. This Armand character seemed fixated on buying The Keys for any price. He had this weird vibe about him—it was almost as if he had a vendetta against women.”

“Oh yeah, babe,” Lennie said dryly. “Just your type. Did you hang his balls on a post?”

“No,” Lucky said, smiling because Lennie knew her so well. “But I did have him bounced from the hotel.”

“Poor bastard,” Lennie said, laughing. “He had no idea who he was messing with.”

“I guess not,” she said thoughtfully.

“Anyway, you threw him out and he's now history. Right?”

“Exactly.”

“So end of that story, and on to other more important things. How's Max doing?”

“The same as ever. Desperate to make a break for it, and get out there on her own.”

“You've got to accept that our girl is a free spirit. All she wants is her space.”

“She gets all the space she needs, thankyouverymuch.
And
we're throwing her a fantastic party. By the way, Ace drove here to be with her.”

“He seems like a good kid.”

“Don't you think she's too young to stick with one person?” Lucky questioned.

“Not if he's the right one.”

“Oh, you mean like you and me?”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Lennie said, laughing.

“I bet you don't remember our first date,” Lucky said, deciding to challenge him.

“Is this a test?” Lennie asked, propping himself up on one elbow and giving her a quizzical look.

“Maybe,” she teased. “Perhaps I want to see if you can pass.”

“Come
on
. As if I could ever forget our first date.”

“Go ahead, then,” she said, continuing to bait him. “I expect details.”

“New York. Chinese restaurant. We killed a bottle of vodka.”

“I'm impressed,” Lucky said. “You really do remember.”

“Did you honestly believe I wouldn't?”

“Well … I thought you'd close in on the first time we made love on that raft in the South of France. Now
that
was unforgettable.”

“You got that right. We should take a look at reenacting that scene sometime soon. Like as soon as I've wrapped my movie.”

“I'm up for it.”

“Me too.”

They exchanged a long intimate look.

“But hey, I gotta admit—our first date was hot too,” Lennie said. “After killing the vodka you dragged me off to some Greenwich Village jazz joint until four in the morning.”